Oh, America
by CharmingFool
Summary: A series of oneshots having to do with America and his states with their laws. -Hetalia-
1. Alabama and Ice cream

**A/N: Eheheh... This was actually pretty rushed... -3- I was sitting in class and was like 'ugh, I am boredddd'. So I wrote this. Look it up if you don't believe me... Pfft. Alabama and it's awesome laws of doom. **

**Disclaimers: Don't own anything to do with Hetalia. Believe me, if I did... The next episode of the Beautiful World would be out god dammit! **

Alabama and Ice Cream

"Alright, welcome to one of the southern states bro!"

It was a sweltering day, and England was boiling in his own juices on the front porch of America's state's home. The young nation was talking excitedly about his 'little boy' and how he was glad the Brit finally had time to drop by and meet him. It wasn't so much he had time that it was he didn't feel like dealing with his problems at home at the moment. Those being the new up and coming pop stars that were making his life a living hell back home... Honestly. The fan girls... He just wanted the fan girls to belt up about 1 Direction already. "It's rather quiet..." He noted absent mindely, looking out at the many fields with a type of wariness. He was longing for the never ending shower of rain and the loud screech of cabs. It was hot here. Dry. Unbelievably silent. It didn't match America's persona. Perhaps Alabama was as boring as he was?

"Yeah, Ally likes it like that. Says it's peaceful. Lame, huh?" Despite the words, his tone was whimsical... And he appeared to be staring out at the fields with a type of pride not unlike England's own when the nation used to be his colony. "It's not so bad..." The smaller of the two murmured, earning a small smile from the American. He was so easily pleased. He'd always been like that. What a silly boy he was. What a silly man he is. "I know you ain't into ice cream... But it's pretty hot, and the air conditioner ain't too good inside. Want a cone?" He waggled his eyebrows as he held one out, crumbs of his own still littering his pouty lips. A bit of vanilla leaked down his chin... England sucked in a breath and held out his hand as he looked away. The thoughts that swirled in his mind at such a sight... He did his best to shoo them away. How utterly disgusting to find a nation he had once considered a son... A _brother... _Desirable.

"Erm... Yes. Thank you." He said with a jerky nod, already feeling the cold treat slipping in streams down his trembling hand. "Sorry, it's strawberry... Strawberry is kinda weird, yeah? I think it's gross." The American said with a laugh. England rolled his eyes, gazing down at his ice cream and desperately hoping it would cool him down. "...It is rather odd..." He murmured in agreement, taking a careful lick. He shuddered. He wasn't a fan of the treat in general. "...Ugh." He grimaced then held the cone out away from his body. "Sheesh, you're making a bigger mess than me... Hold up. I'll got get a towel." And with that, America scurried into the house and out of the heat. Lucky twat. England stared down at the ice cream in disgust. He had to get rid of the stupid thing... As he heard the creek of the floorboards and the tell tale sign of America returning, he made a panicked decision. He slid the cone into his back pocket and moved to a standing position as to not crush it in his only pair of jeans.

America blinked in surprise at the sight of him without a cone. The Brit just smiled nervously in return, leaning against the brick of the wall. "..Ah.. It was... It was good." He murmured with a shrug, shifting uncomfortably. His companion stared at him a while longer before shrugging as well. "Huh. Okay. Well I couldn't find a rag... So. I'll take care of it." At hearing that, he gazed at him curiously. Cone forgotten. "You?" And that was the last word he was able to say before the American began attacking his lips with his own, raking his fingers through his hair. Body against body. Shocked green eyes locked with amused blue. England shuddered as the other pushed him against the eroding brick.

The cone crushed. The ice cream splattered against the back of his pants and the wall. Everything stilled. And then there were the sirens. "Get the FUCK off my dad ya crumpet-sucker! And put yur hands where I can see 'em or you'll be sorry!" The fire of a rifle made the two both scramble to get away from one another. And there, in all his glory, stood Alabama. Eyes furious and rifle pointed right at England. "I didn't... I didn't do anything, you wanker!" He spat, his cheeks burning red and his hands in the air. The state glared as he rested his finger on the trigger. Tempted to actually shoot him. "America! He broke a state law! Legally, I have every right to blow his head off!" America grimaced, slapping his forehead.

"...Iggy. Don't tell me you put the cone in your...?"


	2. Bearing with Alaska

Bearing with Alaska 

**Disclaimers: Don't own Hetalia, Russia, China, or Alaska... Or their laws. Or polar bears. Or.. Ya know what, I don't own crap! *disclaims everything but the idea and writing* **

Russia sat on his haunches, silent as could be. His lavender eyes were focused and his lips had curled into a thin, chilled smile. What he watched oh so intently happened to be a bear. Beautiful, really. It was white as the very snow that fell. The Russian sighed softly, admiring the creature. Admiring the land. He brushed his fingers along the rifled beside him. Inhaled the frigid air. He then picked it up and aimed it from behind the bushes. Alaska was such a lovely place. He wished he could have her back... But alas, he was only allowed to visit. America was quite clear on that. "Hm...?" He blinked in surprise at spotting a wary looking nation. Why, if it wasn't his dear China... And he appeared to be getting up the courage to approach the sleeping beast. He lowered his weapon to watch as the male took shaking steps forward.

"J-Just one picture. I can live with that, aru!"

The man nodded, his ponytail flying as he did so. Russia's curiosity was tainted by sour amusement. So there was something other than him that could frighten the hard-working immortal. He ran his gloved fingers through his short silver locks. What an odd sight. It seemed he hadn't been spotted, however. So he simply sat there, watching the scene go down. The Chinese man lifted his camera with shaky hands, eyes wider than he ever thought possible for him. Russia shifted uncomfortably in his stooping position. He waited. And waited... And God, how long had he been waiting? He checked his watch. A good twenty minutes. He could be patient, but it was just irritating to have to do so. He was tempted to shout at the man to just get it over with. He exhaled softly.

Finally, after what seemed like years of waiting, the man took a picture. He seemed to be quite proud of himself. Probably thought the polar bear was some great God. It wouldn't surprise him. "I can't believe it, I-!" He was cut off by a groggy groan from the bear, who was stirring from it's sleep. The Russian cursed the fact that he had been too slow. While he was not worried for China in the slightest, it bothered him that this kill was going to get away. After all, if he shot it now, China might tell America. And America might start a childish argument then turn it into a nuclear war. Arrogant pig, hording all his polar bears and sweet, _sweet_, Alaska. He sighed inwardly, watching the scene play out.

China squeaked in surprise when the bear let out a very much awake whine. It was rather cute in Russia's ears. China only cowered more at the sound of it however. He began mumbling in Chinese, and it was rather interesting to watch him come undone at the seams at the sight of a mere bear. He could only translate 'stay back, great beast'. Everything else was spoken too fast. The 'great beast' snapped at him, though it didn't have any killer intent behind it. It just seemed rather annoyed. Of course the man only became more frightened by the action. That was when a pale girl with eyes chilled to ice much like her father's appeared. "Mister China, I am afraid you under arrest. Please hold your hands up and _drop the photo." _She spat, clearly angered. "What is wrong with you? Did that bear do anything to you?! No? Then stop taking pictures of him! He's a living creature!"

The girl seemed protective of the animal by the way she spoke, and China seemed to be more confused than frightened. "B-But... Who are you even...? I d-didn't... Erm..." He dropped the camera as he held his hands up, trembling as the bear nosed his back curiously. "Alaska. I hope you'll learn your lesson from in the slammer!" She hissed as she cuffed him. China looked around frantically. In desperate search of some kind of help. When his eyes locked with Russia's, he couldn't help but feel like time had stopped. They exchanged a passionate look that wasn't entirely mutual. With China shaking like that, he might've just peed his pants. The Russian smiled in that chilling way. China was quick to point him out. Tattle tell.

"Russia! Russia has a gun! Don't take me in, aru! Take him! He might... He might shoot the bear!" He stated, squirming in his cuffs. Russia found hearing his name shouted by the other gave him the sweetest of sensations. Alaska glanced his way briefly, showing no signs of recognition. It had been a while... She then shrugged, turning back to the criminal of the day. "So what? It's only wrong to wake them, you awful jerk!" She spat, and with that, she hauled him off. Leaving a very confused brute in the bushes with a loaded rifle. Well. Might as well shoot it, if he wasn't going to get in trouble.

Russia's living room looked very nice with the new fur rug.

* * *

**A/N: Because it's perfectly legal to kill it... Long as you don't wake it to take a picture... Okie dokie then. ^_^ Sorry if the story ain't too good... I remind you that I do these thing at like two in the morning.. xD **


	3. Arizona's Favorite Cactus

**Disclaimers: I don't own Hetalia, Arizona, Spain, Romano, or that special cactus... *glances over at slumped unconscious body* Okay, I MIGHT own Spain... XD Ha! Kidding!**

Arizona's Favorite Cactus 

"Why the hell is it so fuckin' hot?!" An Italian in particular groaned out, too tired to shout it. His amused companion smiled faintly, handing him a water bottle. It was indeed a blistering hot day. The air itself burned, and every breath set fire to each man's lungs. They were being boiled alive... How Spain still managed to laugh was beyond him. "My little one... Mexico... Used to own this place." He said, which he had pointed out at least a billion times on their walk. Oh. You may be wondering why Romano is spending his precious time with the stupido Spaniard and his stupido dazziling green eyes... With his stupido charming smile! Well. He had promised to spend time with his friend... And though he usually wasn't one to keep promises... He wanted... he wanted... No. He just had a small space to fill in his schedule. Nothing more, nothing less. But it just so happened that the idiot had been on his way to Arizona when Romano finally came around... He gritted his teeth before tilting his head back to down the bottle of sweet, sweet, water.

"Ay, Roma! Save some for me... That's our last..." The man trailed off at seeing just mere drops left... Of course Romano hadn't stop. Why would he have? "Eh... Sorry. You should've brought more..." Was all he said in reply as he handed the empty bottle to the other. Who seemed to be deciding whether he should laugh or throw a fit. Ninety-nine percent of the time, it was laugh. And surprise surprise... He laughed. That kind of laugh that made the younger unable to look away. That kind of laugh that made his stomach twist and his cheeks be dusted in the softest of pinks. That kind of laugh that made him want to laugh too. As soon as it ended, he averted his eyes. Shoved at the man's shoulder for making him tense up like that. Of course his companion only regarded him in a confused manner. As if he didn't know what he did to him to deserve that. And that was the way he liked him: oblivious and hopelessly ignorant. Then he didn't have to hide 'it' as much. Not that he was hiding anything anyway!

As they walked aimlessly, the scorch of the sun seemed to intensify to the point where it was no longer an option to wear military jackets. No longer an option to wear shirts. And you can imagine what a joy that was for our scrawny little Romano. "Ah, Roma.. If you just worked out with me and Pru-!" He was cut off by the smaller man's snarl. The last thing he wanted was to be teased in the middle of the fucking dessert in two thousand degree weather! The only thing that made it all okay was the amazing view of his ex caretaker's abs. No, no, that didn't make it better! He honestly needed to make some kind of alliance with somebody soon... Or he might just start drooling over Spain like some lovesick puppy in need of a good petting. Gross.

"Oi... Why do you even like Arizona? It's hot, boring, and-mmph!" The rest was muffled by a hand to his mouth. It smelled of sweet churros and the spice of the man's country. Romano inhaled like as deeply as he could of course. "Shh, mi tomate... I see a cactus." The fuck? What did that have to do with being quiet? Since when could a cactus sprout ears? Well. Spain could tell him they had twenty ears at that moment... And he'd agree like he was telling him the sky was blue. His vision got hazy as he inhaled again. "It's probably near extinct by now.. Because idiotas shoot and chop them down..." The man began to drone on and on about the history of the plant under his breath, as if being heard would be the death of both of them. Of course, it could all be an excuse to be closer. To be able to whisper beside his ear and touch his lips with his rough fingers. OR, Romano could be overthinking it and just imagining it all...

At one particular fact, his ears perked. His train of thought derailed and he was no longer thinking about how lovely the aroma of Spain was. "See.. They also store water I believe..." Romano pulled away from him, staring at the thing like it was a platter of pasta or tomatoes. "They store _water? _I didn't fucking know that! We're over here dying of dehydration... And you knew this, bastard?!" He hissed as he stomped towards it. One of those rare blasts of cool wind brushed by, stinging his eyes with red sand. He didn't stop though. This was his chance! Right now, he might just give his soul for some water. Or... More accurately, Spain's.

"R-Romano! No!" What was this, a soap opera? The Italian rolled his eyes as he stopped a good few feet away. He didn't have a boot knife with him... And so, he took out his pistol. Spain was crying something like 'Don't hurt it' as he rushed to stop him. Why did he feel like he should say something like 'hasta la vista'? Too many stupid movies at America's house.. The smaller nation pulled the trigger just before Spain tackled him to the ground. A bit of the cactus' arm fell. The water leaked... And Romano struggled to get towards it under Spain's weight. Perfectly normal scene for the passing state.

"PUT YOUR HANDS UP!" The two stopped in their odd form of wrestling to look towards a tanned man in shorts and sandals... He wore a shirt, too. Oddly enough. Did he _not _feel the sun's wrath?! "...Arizona~! _Mi querido_!" The Spaniard hummed out as he pushed himself up and went in for a hug... Which of course ended with him holding a bruised cheek where a fist had connected seconds earlier. And, no, he didn't get that hug. "Did you not just hear me?! Hands. UP!" The Italian pushed himself out of the hot dessert sand then held up his own hands, glancing from Spain to Arizona. "Now. Which one of you jerks shot that cactus?! It's against the law. MY law!" Ah. So that was what this was about... As the Spanish man stammered over his words of explanation... Romano immediately came up with a plan of action. His eyes became large and misty, as if he were about to cry.

"...Spain. Spain was being silly... A-And he shot it with my gun.. Said it would be funny. I just... I just feel so bad for the cactus." Yes. He'd rather sell Spain's soul than his own. His crush only went so far.. "Romano, _¿cómo puedes decir que_?! Roma-!" The brunette was cut off as he was cuffed and dragged away, undergoing a serious lecture from a seriously pissed state. And as Romano watched the scene play out, crocodile tears drying up...

He had himself a drink of water from that cactus.

* * *

**A/N: Oi, poor cactus... Pfft. At the end, I figured 'why not make Romano a jerk and sell Spain out to save his own ass?' 'Cause... Well. I just think it's something he'd probably do... Eh. Hope you enjoyed and all that. ^^**

**_Mi querido_ - My darling**

**_¿cómo puedes decir que_ - How can you say that**


End file.
